by Edgar Lee Masters
I went to the dances at Chandlerville，
And played snap-out at Winchester.
One time we changed partners，
Driving home in the moonlight of middle June，
And then I found Davis.
We were married and lived together for seventy years，
Enjoying， working， raising the twelve children，
Eight of whom we lost
Ere I had reached the age of sixty.
I spun， I wove， I kept the house， I nursed the sick，
I made the garden， and for holiday
Rambled over the fields where sang the larks，
And by Spoon River gathering many a shell，
And many a flower and medicinal weed
Shouting to the wooded hills， singing to the green valleys.
At ninety-six I had lived enough， that is all，
And passed to a sweet repose.
What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness，
Anger， discontent and drooping hopes？
Degenerate sons and daughters，
Life is too strong for you
It takes life to love Life
I went to the dances at Chandlerville，
And played snap-out at Winchester.
One time we changed partners，
Driving home in the moonlight of middle June，
And then I found Davis.
We were married and lived together for seventy years，
Enjoying， working， raising the twelve children，
Eight of whom we lost
Ere I had reached the age of sixty.
I spun， I wove， I kept the house， I nursed the sick，
I made the garden， and for holiday
Rambled over the fields where sang the larks，
And by Spoon River gathering many a shell，
And many a flower and medicinal weed
Shouting to the wooded hills， singing to the green valleys.
At ninety-six I had lived enough， that is all，
And passed to a sweet repose.
What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness，
Anger， discontent and drooping hopes？
Degenerate sons and daughters，
Life is too strong for you
It takes life to love Life